Kit Scarlet

Bravado | Naveen & Kit

It was early in the evening, so naturally the girls were drinking. Kit had distributed the goblets, although Meera was the one pouring. She had a strong pour, which Kit loved her for. They sat on top of a pile of cushions. Some wore more clothes than others and some wore very little. It all depended on who planned to work that night. Kit intended to spend the night relaxing, so she kept her silk robe wrapped tightly around her waist. 

She was not entirely paying attention to the conversation around her, content enough to simply be in their presence. She lay back on the one armed couch, her head draped across Valora’s lap. Valora braided her blonde curls into an intricate pattern. Between her gentle fingers and the heavy pour, Kit felt her eyelids were made of stone. 

The sunset cast the streets surrounding The Hidden Pearl in an ember glow. While the day laborers and merchants began to scurry away, the woman began to depart separately or in pairs to prepare themselves for the night ahead. As their numbers dwindled, the conversation steered itself into darker territory. Still, Kit only listened with one ear focused. 

“If he frightens you so, refuse him.” Kit offered to which Valora responded with a barking laugh. 

“He is not the sort of man you refuse.” 

“Any man is a man we can refuse. You know it as well as I do.” Valora’s eyes darted around the room, reluctant to meet Kit’s. 

“Forget I said anything, kitten.” 

“You know I will do no such thing.” Little as she was, she drew herself up to her full height. “The next time he comes knocking, you send him my way. If he is as bad as you say, I’ll turn him out. If he’s just a creep, we divy up the pay. You’ll still make a pretty penny without having to do any of the work.” 

Valora shook her head, but Kit shushed her. It was near perfect timing that her caller announced himself when he did and Kit stood up, loosening her robe only slightly and shaking her blonde curls from their braids. She did not invite further argument and the other woman pressed a kiss to her cheek. The relief that washed over Valora’s face should have served as a warning, but Kit felt invincible within the Pearl. Even if Valora had warned her properly, she still might have ignored it. 

Kit came to the top of the stairwell, leaning against the wooden railing. “Dancing?” Kit replied, matching the growl of his voice with one of her own. “Now I thought a faerie like you would be interested in more than that.” She took careful note of the bloodstains and the malice in his dark eyes. He seemed to look eagerly for a reaction and Kit stubbornly elected to keep it out of his reach. 

TW: Mentions of domestic Abuse

She stood in front of her mirror, attendants flanking her on either side with a few running to and from her dresser. They held up earrings on either side or bracelets to her wrist, but had quickly given up attempting to persuade Kit to take off her mother’s ring. She did not care if its silver band clashed with her golden gown. She would not remove her mother’s ring under pain of death, much less than over a mere fashion faux pas. When her attendants had persisted and Kit had replied she would rather cut the hand off entirely, they had abandoned the cause completely.

She might have been kinder if it had not been for her father’s insistence that they dine together in the middle of the day. She was forced awake to agree to his summons, immediately souring what should have been a day filled with excitement. She had long ago ceased to have any hope for a pleasant relationship with her father, but had hoped he would at least be grateful for her engagement. After all, she was his only child. But instead the meal had turned into another of his searing lectures, outlining all of her faults and detailing all the ways she would mess it up without his careful guidance. He went on and on, in such detail, regarding what he expected from her as a wife and esteemed lady of court, Kit had inquired if he intended to join her in the marriage bed so as to coach her properly.

She had a large bruise blossoming on her ribs to show how much he appreciated her jape. But it was worth it, even if the taste of blood in her mouth still lingered and she had screamed when they put her corset on. They had seen, of course, Lord William Scarlet’s handiwork before and it was not their first time covering it up, but none commented. Kit still had not decided if she loved them or hated them all for it.

One of the attendants, Shuri, handed Kit a glass of fire whiskey as she dried her tears. Kit accepted it with a smile. The glass was taken away all too soon while they fussed over her makeup. Kit had asked to do it herself, but the attendants refused with the same ferocity as Kit when she refused to give up her ring. It was only when Shuri finally explained that Lord Scarlet had explicitly stated Kit was not allowed to refuse their help Kit understand their vigor.

“I imagine he did not put it so nicely,” Kit said, her tone dry.

“No, mistress. He did not. But please, do not ask me to repeat it,” Shuri said, her hands folded in front of her. Kit found herself laughing with such force that she began to cry.

“Isn’t that just perfect? He can beat me plenty, but Sages forbid he allows his daughter’s makeup to be anything but flawless,” Kit choked out, clutching her ribs in an attempt to ease the pain that was worsening with each movement.

She continued on for a few more minutes, unable to settle down completely without the horrible hilarity of it all spurring her back on. It was only when the whiskey was placed back in her hands and one of the older attendants, Mya, pinched her hand that Kit sobered up.

“We are here to help you in the ways we can, Mistress. Will you let us?” Kit nodded her acceptance, wiping away her tears, much to dismay of her attendants.

“It was ruined away,” Mya chided them, “we would have had to restart anyway.” Her voice was stern, but she was exceedingly gentle as she finished wiping Kit’s face.

By the time they were finished, the fire whiskey had made the pain from her ribs tolerable and she felt her mood lift. It was only a few more weeks she would be properly married and out of her father’s reach for good. For the first time all day, she felt her heart swell. She stood up, shedding her plain garments to change into a golden gown with deep red accents. Her attendants had wanted to put her hair up into a low bun with ringlets framing her face to accent the low neckline, but Kit had wanted it down. In the end, they reached a compromise: half of her hair was intricately braided and twisted up while the rest hung in loose curls.

Argos settled back into the plush cushions at his back, content to hold Kit in his lap and speak with her into all hours of the day, if he was allowed it. Having her in his arms was one of the most wonderful feelings in the world, and one that he’d not trade for all the gold coin in it. Kit was it for him, he had realized long ago, and it wouldn’t matter what anyone else thought of it.

Not a damned one.

Picking one of her arms off from around his neck, Argos turned the hand in his own, marveling at its size, the delicacy of her fingers, and pressed kisses upon each knuckle, feather light and soft, before working his way up her arm. Pausing only to accept the sweet kiss from her lips, the other hand that pulled at him, urgent now, a reminder to speed things along. He’d just swept a hand up to her neck, to kiss along the curve of her throat, the one hand dropping hers to delve beneath her skirts when an impatient knocking broke him from his task.

The man frowned but did not move from his spot, waiting for the person at the door to leave so they could resume their previous activities. Only when they didn’t, when they knocked again and one of the handmaidens–Shuri, a voice that sounded like Kit’s reminded him–warned them of her father’s impending arrival.

Argos cursed softly beneath his breath before helping Kit to her feet, running a hand down her dress to smooth any and all imperfections from the material. “It is alright, pet,” he soothed, a hand palming the back of his neck as he bent to press his forehead to hers. “I’ll hide with the girls. But make it quick.” Then, he was dashing off behind the partition of the room where the handmaidens languished until they were needed, knocking quietly three times of his own before entering.

He had, unfortunately, done this before. It made him feel like a boy each and every time.  

Oh, she wanted to follow him and hide behind his arms. She would bury her face in his chest and he would send him away. But instead, she drew strength from the touch of his lips on her forehead and turned towards the door. Soon enough, it would be over and not even the Firelord himself would be able to keep them apart. She folded her hands, nails digging into her palm as she heard his footsteps approach.

Her handmaidens were silent behind the partition. The Scarlet household had long since learned to hold their breathe silently for fear of upsetting Lord Scarlet. Her door swung open violently and Kit fought the urge to flinch.

“Lord Scarlet,” Kit began, her tone flat. She could not remember the last time she had called him father. “What a blessing for you to call on me twice. Have you come to impart additional wisdom?” She did not smirk or even raise her eyebrows in taunt as she might normally have done. There was no need to add fuel to the flame.

He remained unamused as ever by her wit, bridging the distance between them quickly and placing a hand on her side. She knew even before he squeezed his intention and felt the breath knocked from her lungs. She gasped and felt her knees buckle, but he held her upright.

“Enough. Consider yourself lucky you have a banquet to attend or I might be persuaded to find more lasting methods of shutting you up,” he hissed, the fire whiskey on his breathe gagging her. “I told you to be on your best behavior. And only a few hours later, I hear you are anything but.”

Kit felt her vision blur and nearly smiled with relief. Unconsciousness seemed a very tempting escape but he released his grip on her side just before she could embrace it fully.

“I made you a better match than a you could ever hope for and I will unmake it if you continue to defy me. Do I make myself clear?” He tugged on her jaw, forcing her to meet his eyes. If she could burn him with a look, he would be nothing but ash.

“Yes.” Kit answered, her jaw clenched. He raised his eyebrows, asking a question that she knew had only one appropriate answer. She sighed.

“Yes, father. I will behave,” she continued, her tone flat. He nodded his approval and with a forceful pat that left her wincing, departed.

the-kit-scarlet​:

ryes-up​:

Kit’s Plus One || Flashback AU||  Kit, Balthazar & Rye

Trigger Warnings: Blood, childbirth

“It’s too soon, Mads,” Kit moaned, writhing in the bed, sweat soaking her forehead and chest. She moved her mouth like had more she wanted to say, but instead let out an glass shattering scream. Maddox did not flinch, no matter how painfully she gripped his hand or how painfully her cries rang in his eyes. Kit had enough to endure without bearing witness to his fears. He sent up a prayer to Tui and La, thanking them and his mother’s insistence that he learn how to assist a woman in this hour. Their wisdom would guide him now. 

The orders fell easily from his lips and it had the added effect of calming Kit. Both Rye and Balthazar looked petrified and he was sure that was only upsetting Kit more than necessary. “I am not ready and I am so tired,” Kit panted. “I cannot keep pushing, Mads. I am so, so tired and it hurts.” Her last word lead into a long moan. He wiped her brow with the edge of his sleeve, unwilling to use a clean cloth. 

“Kit,” Maddox began, and then abandoned the thought to encourage her to push as she screamed again until she was hoarse. When Kit began to breathe easily again, looking paler than ever before, Maddox seized the brief interlude to try to raise her spirits. “Kit, your child is almost here. Just a few more pushes.” She looked at him as if he had just suggested she swim across the ocean and he felt a smile tug on his lips in spite of himself. He washed his hands and then washed hers with a cloth, bringing her hands down to show her. She gasped, eyes widening and watering with renewed effort. 

“Is that-”

“Your child’s head, yes. Look how far they have come to meet you, my girl. Only a little bit more.” Kit laughed aloud before yelling again, this time with Maddox encouraging her on. 

It was slow progress and with each cloth he used to wipe blood away, Maddox knew he was running out of time and options. Even as he smiled his encouragement and murmured his reassurances, he knew that his last resort option was becoming impossible to avoid. If the baby was not born soon, he would have to choose. 

He turned back towards Rye and Balthazar, seemingly frozen in the door, and Maddox could only thank Tui and La that Kit’s eyes were shut tight as she pushed. 

“Bring them here and then fetch someone to wash these used cloths and bring them back immediately.”

@dance-of-war @ryes-up

Balthazar had frozen at both Rye’s words and Kit’s pained figure. He understood all those words separately, but together they formed a vast unknown and terrifying conclusion. The baby was coming. He had known Kit was pregnant, how could he not, but knowing and understanding were two different things, especially in a moment like this. 

Regardless when Maddox started barking orders, Balthazar snapped out of his frozen state and ran, ran like the Fire Lord was back on his heels, if possible he ran even faster. 

This proved to be a problem when he was turning a corner and heard Kit’s scream - full of extended agony - and promptly tripped over his own feet and slammed into wall he was just turning to go around. 

“Fuck!” he cursed, holding his nose as tears sprung to his eyes even as he backed up a few steps. “Fuck” he continued, quieter this time and full of terror. 

He remembered those talks they had had about the upcoming birth, everything that would need to be done, everything that could happen. And it was those words that were cycling around inside his head as everything finally came to the fore. He couldn’t lose Kit, he couldn’t. Kit was his sky full of stars, if she was gone - and he refused to even think of her dead - where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to follow when his light was gone? 

He tugged at his hair harshly, even as he tried to force the anxiety and fear back under control. It wasn’t working. More tears welled up in his eyes, this time there was no physical pain to blame it on. The worst-case scenario kept repeating over and over in his head. 

It was another earth-shattering scream that broke him out of it. Sent him running before he realized he was moving. Balthazar didn’t know how long he had been standing panicking the hallway, but he knew it was way to long. He quickly grabbed every towel he could find and it didn’t seem enough, so he grabbed sheets and blankets too, it still didn’t seem enough but it was taking to long already. So he grabbed his haul and rushed back, following the sounds of Kit’s pain-filled screams. 

Balthazar almost ran into Rye at the doorway, nearly toppled them both over, but caught himself just in time. Giving the giant pile of cloth to Maddox and seeing the blood- Balthazar swallowed a panicked whine. 

Kit would be fine. Surely, she would be. She was strong, the strongest person he knew. And Maddox was there, he knew what he was doing, he’d done it before. And that more than anything was reassuring. Until Balthazar saw the look in his eyes even as he smiled under it all. Oh fuck. 

Rye’s words managed to snap him out of it for a breath, even as he gave the other a panicked side-eyed glance. 

“Of course she will be, she’s Kit after all.” But even those words sounded weak to his ears. 

A little one would be good, everyone had been so excited for that, even him. He’d started making little knives for the babe, for later when they were older, along with bracelets, necklaces, and hair pieces accented with pretty things they found on their travels. It had been hard to craft them but Balthazar was nothing except determined. 

But if they lost Kit in the process- what were they supposed to do? Balthazar didn’t trust himself alone with a child, he didn’t trust himself alone with anyone that couldn’t think for themselves and have the stubbornness to back it up. What were they supposed to do without Kit? Should the worst come to pass? And Balthazar was becoming very, very worried that it was coming close to that point. 

@ryes-up @the-kit-scarlet

Rye’s eyes shifted between Maddox, Kit, then to Balthazar. “Balthazar and I will wash them and be back in just a minute,” he volunteered. He extinguished the small flame in his palm and set the near boiling pot of water near Maddox. He reached out, hesitating a moment before grasping Kit’s hand and squeezing it tightly. He reached his other hand out in what could’ve been seen as a gentle gesture, running his fingers through her hair. But his primary reason for it was so she didn’t thrash about and smash her head into his when he leaned down to press a kiss against her forehead. “We’ll be right back,” he promised, before taking the small pile of used cloths beside Maddox, and turning to shoo Balthazar out of the room.

“You’re not good to any of us if you faint,” Rye pointed out. The same could be said to him, though he didn’t feel close to fainting. More close to sheer panic at seeing how much blood there had been. How much blood there was on the cloths in Rye’s hands. “Let’s get these clean quickly and go back to check on her. She’ll feel better knowing we’re there with her.” He wasn’t even certain that she noticed their presence. The pain had to be excruciating, and even Maddox’s once calm demeanor had a certain edge to it that made the entire thing set more grave than it should’ve been.

Rye led the way to the galley, passing off half the cloths to Balthazar as he started scrubbing them in one of the wash bins. She was going to be fine. She had to be fine. Maddox wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Rye scrubbed the cloths until his hands felt like they would start staining them again with his own blood. “Are you ready to go back?”

“You will tell them, Kit. They’re almost here now,” Mads replied, but Kit shook her head. 

“Promise me, Mads. Please.” 

“I promise, Kit. I swear on all the spirits of the next world and everything I hold dear in this world,” Mads repeated, in his home tongue, knowing that while the words would not be understood, she would understand the meaning. She did and murmured a quiet thank you and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“This is not goodbye, Kit,” Maddox said, as she reached for his face. “We’ll have time for all of that later on. Just hold on a little longer. I know you’re very tired, but we’re almost done.”

She was trying her best, Maddox could see, but she was fading faster. Her skin was paler than it should have been and all color seemed to have left her face. He could feel the babe’s head. When Rye and Balthazar returned, he ordered them on either side of the bed.

“She’s pushing, but it’s not enough. You’ll stand on either side of her and hold her up. It’ll make it easier for the babe to find their way out,” Maddox said. Kit nodded her assent, but when they all saw her eyes flutter just moving to sit up. “I only need one or two pushes. Then the babe is here and the hard part is over.”

He looked to Rye and Balthazar whose faces were equally grim. 

Trigger Warnings: Blood, childbirth

“What the hell do you mean the baby’s coming?”

It wasn’t that Rye didn’t know Kit had been pregnant. It wasn’t even that it hadn’t occurred to him that a small human would soon be joining them. He just hadn’t put too much thought into specifically how exactly they would get from Point A of a pregnant Kit, to Point B of Kit plus an infant. Maddox’s words, orders barked at Rye to boil water while he yelled at Balthazar to find towels, reminded him that the older man had clearly put far more thought into how those two points connected.

Rye scrambled to the galley to find a pot, filling it with water and only spilling half of it as he ran back to Kit’s room. The pot shook as he held it over his other hand, a small flame erupting in his palm to heat the water. He silently thanked his time in the water tribe for teaching him control under pressure. It wasn’t something well taught in the Fire Nation, and without that control, there would be a solid chance he’d accidentally set the ship on fire simply for how nervous and freaked out he was. He looked up from what he was doing—trying to focus on anything other than the woman in pain in the midst of labor on the bed—as Balthazar appeared.

Rye offered his best attempt at a comforting smile. He wasn’t sure how much the young boy had thought about this eventuality either. “Did you bring the towels? It’s all going to be fine. We’re going to have a little one to take care of soon.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Balthazar or himself that this was normal. Something about the process, the amount of blood, all of it—just didn’t seem quite right. But Rye didn’t exactly have much experience, so he relied on Maddox to know what he was doing.

The orders fell easily from his lips and it had the added effect of calming Kit. Both Rye and Balthazar looked petrified and he was sure that was only upsetting Kit more than necessary. “I am not ready and I am so tired,” Kit panted. “I cannot keep pushing, Mads. I am so, so tired and it hurts.” Her last word lead into a long moan. He wiped her brow with the edge of his sleeve, unwilling to use a clean cloth. 

“Kit,” Maddox began, and then abandoned the thought to encourage her to push as she screamed again until she was hoarse. When Kit began to breathe easily again, looking paler than ever before, Maddox seized the brief interlude to try to raise her spirits. “Kit, your child is almost here. Just a few more pushes.” She looked at him as if he had just suggested she swim across the ocean and he felt a smile tug on his lips in spite of himself. He washed his hands and then washed hers with a cloth, bringing her hands down to show her. She gasped, eyes widening and watering with renewed effort. 

“Is that-”

“Your child’s head, yes. Look how far they have come to meet you, my girl. Only a little bit more.” Kit laughed aloud before yelling again, this time with Maddox encouraging her on. 

It was slow progress and with each cloth he used to wipe blood away, Maddox knew he was running out of time and options. Even as he smiled his encouragement and murmured his reassurances, he knew that his last resort option was becoming impossible to avoid. If the baby was not born soon, he would have to choose. 

He turned back towards Rye and Balthazar, seemingly frozen in the door, and Maddox could only thank Tui and La that Kit’s eyes were shut tight as she pushed. 

“Bring them here and then fetch someone to wash these used cloths and bring them back immediately.”

She would have happily spent the rest of her life with her face in his hands. It always made her feel safe. It made her feel like she was home. A slow warmth began to spread throughout her body.

She knew if she wanted, she could tell Argos everything that happened today. He would find out sooner or later, but Kit wanted a few hours for themselves. She kissed the palm of his hand before answering.

“Much better now that you have arrived,” Kit answered before kissing him again. She deepened it briefly, only to pull away breathless, with a mischievous grin. She ran her hands down his silk vest.

“Must be careful not to mess up my makeup or hair. Mya would have my head,” Kit teased, “especially since I would not sit still the first time and she had to start over.” It did not bother her how easily the lie came to her lips. She spent her entire childhood lying and some habits were too difficult to break. She made a quick promise to herself that once they were married, she would be honest. After all, there would be no reason to lie anymore.

She laced her fingers together behind the nape of his neck and fought the urge to take his bun down. She loved his curls and had spent the past few years thinking of how lovely it would be to run her hands through them.

“Though I suppose she could not blame me. After all, what was I supposed to do when a handsome man came into my room?”

@the-kit-scarlet​

The smile on his face only widened, softening about the edges there and at his eyes, when she kissed his palms. Such a sweet thing but far from delicate, he had come to earn Kit’s care and love, though he had not wanted it for such a long while. Theirs had been a betrothal cemented when she was still no more than a child, and he would not think to speak to or even be in the same room without a chaperone present. 

It was only until after she was of age that he allowed himself to loosen the formalities, to sink head first into what he could learn of her, and Argos had never wanted to drown more. Kit’s sweetness and her care hid a crafty mind and a clever tongue, two things he loved dearly about her, among others, and it was not long before he was hopelessly devoted. He couldn’t give one wit what William Scarlet thought, just that, soon, Kit would be away from him forever. 

Her little hands trailed down his chest, catching on his vest, and he grinned, a similar wickedness mirroring her own. “I promise I shall not, though it is far lovelier down. I suspect they would not let you keep it that way, hm?" 

Just as she, no doubt, was focused on the way his hair had been swept away from his face, he noticed the littlest things about Kit, too. Like the way she held herself, the easy lie that slid from her tongue. He leaned into the kiss before breaking it, sliding to trail a simple press of lips to the bone behind her ear. 

"Act like the lady you are meant to be,” he teased, wide hands catching at her waist before lifting her easily up into his arms, gentle, careful. He walked them through the door and shut it quietly behind them, settling them into a chair so he could hold her close. “Kiren sends his love but I wish to give you mine, my lady. Will you take it?”

“Always, Argos,” Kit answered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And I’ll always give you mine.” Surely this is what all the greatest love stories were made of. This is what all her classmates had gushed about. It was what she thought she had with Lily and then with Amaury. But she knew that she had never known a love like this before. She wasn’t sure if she would ever know one like it after Argos, but she would do all in her power to make sure there was never an after. Not for them.

She kissed him again, urgent now, and her hands were pleading. She felt him respond to her and it never ceased to make her proud. She alone had this effect on him and she had never felt such a thrill with anyone before. She was almost sure that he would give in- he was never very good at denying her anything- but there was impatient knocking at the door. Kit planned to ignore them until she heard Shuri’s voice.

She would have happily spent the rest of her life with her face in his hands. It always made her feel safe. It made her feel like she was home. A slow warmth began to spread throughout her body.

She knew if she wanted, she could tell Argos everything that happened today. He would find out sooner or later, but Kit wanted a few hours for themselves. She kissed the palm of his hand before answering.

“Much better now that you have arrived,” Kit answered before kissing him again. She deepened it briefly, only to pull away breathless, with a mischievous grin. She ran her hands down his silk vest.

“Must be careful not to mess up my makeup or hair. Mya would have my head,” Kit teased, “especially since I would not sit still the first time and she had to start over.” It did not bother her how easily the lie came to her lips. She spent her entire childhood lying and some habits were too difficult to break. She made a quick promise to herself that once they were married, she would be honest. After all, there would be no reason to lie anymore.

She laced her fingers together behind the nape of his neck and fought the urge to take his bun down. She loved his curls and had spent the past few years thinking of how lovely it would be to run her hands through them.

“Though I suppose she could not blame me. After all, what was I supposed to do when a handsome man came into my room?”

@the-kit-scarlet​

The smile on his face only widened, softening about the edges there and at his eyes, when she kissed his palms. Such a sweet thing but far from delicate, he had come to earn Kit’s care and love, though he had not wanted it for such a long while. Theirs had been a betrothal cemented when she was still no more than a child, and he would not think to speak to or even be in the same room without a chaperone present. 

It was only until after she was of age that he allowed himself to loosen the formalities, to sink head first into what he could learn of her, and Argos had never wanted to drown more. Kit’s sweetness and her care hid a crafty mind and a clever tongue, two things he loved dearly about her, among others, and it was not long before he was hopelessly devoted. He couldn’t give one wit what William Scarlet thought, just that, soon, Kit would be away from him forever. 

Her little hands trailed down his chest, catching on his vest, and he grinned, a similar wickedness mirroring her own. “I promise I shall not, though it is far lovelier down. I suspect they would not let you keep it that way, hm?" 

Just as she, no doubt, was focused on the way his hair had been swept away from his face, he noticed the littlest things about Kit, too. Like the way she held herself, the easy lie that slid from her tongue. He leaned into the kiss before breaking it, sliding to trail a simple press of lips to the bone behind her ear. 

"Act like the lady you are meant to be,” he teased, wide hands catching at her waist before lifting her easily up into his arms, gentle, careful. He walked them through the door and shut it quietly behind them, settling them into a chair so he could hold her close. “Kiren sends his love but I wish to give you mine, my lady. Will you take it?”

“Always, Argos,” Kit answered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And I’ll always give you mine.” Surely this is what all the greatest love stories were made of. This is what all her classmates had gushed about. It was what she thought she had with Lily and then with Amaury. But she knew that she had never known a love like this before. She wasn’t sure if she would ever know one like it after Argos, but she would do all in her power to make sure there was never an after. Not for them.

She kissed him again, urgent now, and her hands were pleading. She felt him respond to her and it never ceased to make her proud. She alone had this effect on him and she had never felt such a thrill with anyone before. She was almost sure that he would give in- he was never very good at denying her anything- but there was impatient knocking at the door. Kit planned to ignore them until she heard Shuri’s voice.

TW: Mentions of domestic Abuse

She stood in front of her mirror, attendants flanking her on either side with a few running to and from her dresser. They held up earrings on either side or bracelets to her wrist, but had quickly given up attempting to persuade Kit to take off her mother’s ring. She did not care if its silver band clashed with her golden gown. She would not remove her mother’s ring under pain of death, much less than over a mere fashion faux pas. When her attendants had persisted and Kit had replied she would rather cut the hand off entirely, they had abandoned the cause completely.

She might have been kinder if it had not been for her father’s insistence that they dine together in the middle of the day. She was forced awake to agree to his summons, immediately souring what should have been a day filled with excitement. She had long ago ceased to have any hope for a pleasant relationship with her father, but had hoped he would at least be grateful for her engagement. After all, she was his only child. But instead the meal had turned into another of his searing lectures, outlining all of her faults and detailing all the ways she would mess it up without his careful guidance. He went on and on, in such detail, regarding what he expected from her as a wife and esteemed lady of court, Kit had inquired if he intended to join her in the marriage bed so as to coach her properly.

She had a large bruise blossoming on her ribs to show how much he appreciated her jape. But it was worth it, even if the taste of blood in her mouth still lingered and she had screamed when they put her corset on. They had seen, of course, Lord William Scarlet’s handiwork before and it was not their first time covering it up, but none commented. Kit still had not decided if she loved them or hated them all for it.

One of the attendants, Shuri, handed Kit a glass of fire whiskey as she dried her tears. Kit accepted it with a smile. The glass was taken away all too soon while they fussed over her makeup. Kit had asked to do it herself, but the attendants refused with the same ferocity as Kit when she refused to give up her ring. It was only when Shuri finally explained that Lord Scarlet had explicitly stated Kit was not allowed to refuse their help Kit understand their vigor.

“I imagine he did not put it so nicely,” Kit said, her tone dry.

“No, mistress. He did not. But please, do not ask me to repeat it,” Shuri said, her hands folded in front of her. Kit found herself laughing with such force that she began to cry.

“Isn’t that just perfect? He can beat me plenty, but Sages forbid he allows his daughter’s makeup to be anything but flawless,” Kit choked out, clutching her ribs in an attempt to ease the pain that was worsening with each movement.

She continued on for a few more minutes, unable to settle down completely without the horrible hilarity of it all spurring her back on. It was only when the whiskey was placed back in her hands and one of the older attendants, Mya, pinched her hand that Kit sobered up.

“We are here to help you in the ways we can, Mistress. Will you let us?” Kit nodded her acceptance, wiping away her tears, much to dismay of her attendants.

“It was ruined away,” Mya chided them, “we would have had to restart anyway.” Her voice was stern, but she was exceedingly gentle as she finished wiping Kit’s face.

By the time they were finished, the fire whiskey had made the pain from her ribs tolerable and she felt her mood lift. It was only a few more weeks she would be properly married and out of her father’s reach for good. For the first time all day, she felt her heart swell. She stood up, shedding her plain garments to change into a golden gown with deep red accents. Her attendants had wanted to put her hair up into a low bun with ringlets framing her face to accent the low neckline, but Kit had wanted it down. In the end, they reached a compromise: half of her hair was intricately braided and twisted up while the rest hung in loose curls.

An energy hummed around him like static, like the cloying taste of ozone, though all in the Caraway household knew not to speak of it. There were those who would have, of course, had they still been alive to do so, but his father was no longer and his mother, Sages keep her, was only able to keep a handful of their secrets for so long. 

This fit Argos well, for he cared little for people to know of his personal affairs. His only companion, his younger brother, Kiren, lounged in the chair across from him as he readied for the evening that would change the fortune of his life for the better. 

A maroon silk brocade vest claimed his chest, the golden accent thread shimmering as he moved about. Deep, dark black pants and shirt clung to him as well, fitted and beautiful. Rings of deep amethyst and gold adorned his left hand, the right accepting only the Caraway signet. His hair, though long and curly, was pulled up into a bun at the nape of his neck, his attendants hoping to keep the 'unruly mane' his mother so hated away from his face. 

Lord Scarlet had been explicit in his commands: the party would be held this eve before swaths of people, his people. He and Kit were to be wed in a few week's time and the excitement of that coursed through his veins. The engagement had lasted far longer than this mere party pretended, and their families had been sure to arrange the party so it was seen by all. That thought left a bitterness to the whole charade, but Argos intended to make the most of it.

Glancing once more at his little brother, Argos offered a wan smile. "Well, I think it is time for my escape, wouldn't you? Thank you for this, Kiren. It means the world." 

Kiren laughed, waving a hand, and sat forward. "It is nothing. Go, enjoy the sliver of time you have. Soon it will not be as fun, all this sneaking about. You'll be a married man."

"I doubt that. Marriage does not suck the life out of you, not when it is with the woman you love. I shall be quick. Keep them occupied for a while, won't you?" 

And then he was gone, bounding out the window like he was ten years younger and striking off into the street. A nondescript cloak was tossed over his head and clothing before he breached the estate line and, then, if was only a quick jump and a few nimble scaling exercises before he was adjusting his clothing and knocking at Kit's door. 

When it opened and he saw her face, Argos drank her in, overcome by the beauty of her. Glancing behind her at the empty room, Argos chuckled quietly as a hand came to cup her face, the other falling to her lower stomach, an action so careless here out in the open, but one he could not help. 

She knew if she wanted, she could tell Argos everything that happened today. He would find out sooner or later, but Kit wanted a few hours for themselves. She kissed the palm of his hand before answering.

“Much better now that you have arrived,” Kit answered before kissing him again. She deepened it briefly, only to pull away breathless, with a mischievous grin. She ran her hands down his silk vest.

“Must be careful not to mess up my makeup or hair. Mya would have my head,” Kit teased, “especially since I would not sit still the first time and she had to start over.” It did not bother her how easily the lie came to her lips. She spent her entire childhood lying and some habits were too difficult to break. She made a quick promise to herself that once they were married, she would be honest. After all, there would be no reason to lie anymore.

She laced her fingers together behind the nape of his neck and fought the urge to take his bun down. She loved his curls and had spent the past few years thinking of how lovely it would be to run her hands through them.